by Tania Hutley
Peeling my lips back from my teeth, I give him a feline grin. “Now let’s go and kill the Beast.”
He snorts out a small, amused breath. “It’s a date.”
I keep close by his side as we slowly descend the steps to the final floor, feeling every stumble and intake of breath as though his pain were mine. When we get to the last locked door, I rear up and rest my front paws on it. “You ready?” I murmur.
He meets my gaze and gives a single nod.
Plunging my claws into the door, I wrench it out of its frame. Cale pushes past me, limping into the room before I’ve managed to throw the door aside.
Dropping to all four paws, I start after him.
An explosion slams into me, hurling me back into the hallway. I smash hard into the wall. Sentin’s death flashes in front of my eyes, the way he blew himself up.
Cale!
A wave of heat rolls out of the splintered door frame, burning my lungs as I drag in a breath. Pulling myself up, I drop my head and lope into the searing heat.
Smoke fills the room, blinding me. The floor is hot enough to keep me moving, and I keep bounding forward, though the pads of my paws are burning.
“Cale.” It’s more of a cough than a word, and I already know it’s useless to call for him. There’s no way he could have survived the explosion.
Gunfire cracks out of the smoke, the muzzle of the Beast’s gun lighting up with each shot. The bullets carve into me, but I barely feel them as I rush toward the flashes of light.
I leap over the still-burning floor where the explosion went off, and fling myself into the smoke on the other side, barrelling into the dark shape of the man behind the gunfire. Together, we slide across the floor, his weapon clattering away and hitting what remains of the large pod that was in the middle of the room, surrounded by now-shattered medical equipment.
I leap to my feet and press one paw against the man’s chest before he can get up. His eyes stare up into mine. The Beast’s human body looks nothing like his bald, fleshy Skin. This man looks much like all the other businessmen who sat around his boardroom table. He has thick, dark hair and a smooth, almost-ageless face. The only signs of how old he must really be are the fine lines around his tweaked eyes and mouth.
I snarl into his face. My anger is so intense, it burns hotter than the fire did.
“Stop,” he croaks. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“You killed Felicity.” It comes out as a growl, the words hard to make out.
“This Skin is stronger than I knew they could be.” He says it accusingly, as though he’s caught me cheating. “Who are you?”
“President Morelle,” I growl. “Before that, I was a sinker. Expendable. Another grunt for your factories.”
“An Old Tritoner?” He sounds shocked, as though this possibility never occurred to him. “But how did you—?” He gives his head a little shake. “It doesn’t matter where you came from. If you’re the President of Triton, you’ll need me.”
“I need you?” I bare my teeth, tempted to bite his arrogant head right off his shoulders.
He grunts with pain as my weight bears down on him, and turns his face to the side so he’s not staring into my teeth. “Triton won’t run without my consortium. It would be chaos.” For the first time, there’s a hint of fear in his voice.
“You organized the Welcon disaster that tore my family apart.”
“I distributed the vaccine, but Edward Morelle was the mastermind behind the idea.” He speaks quickly, his tone cajoling. “And if you’d just open your mind, you’d see that the aftermath of that act could give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Let me help you.”
“I want nothing from you.” I spit the words, my bloody saliva splattering his face. “You deserve to die for what you’ve done to millions of sinkers. Let alone what you did to Felicity.”
His mouth hardens and a flash of defiance sparks in his eyes. “Then throw away everything I have to offer. But Old Triton can’t survive without factories, which won’t run without the consortium. Hurt me, and you’ll regret it when Old Triton falls apart and your precious sewer rats are starving in the streets.”
I drag in a breath, fighting for control of my rage. “I’d planned to tear your throat out. But now I have a better idea.”
Lifting my paw off his chest, I flip him over. Then I slice the tip of one claw into the back of his neck, ripping out flesh. He screams, his body convulsing, but I don’t stop until I’ve torn out the chip that allowed him to transfer into his Skin.
With the mess I’ve made of his flesh, I doubt he’ll ever be able to implant a new one. But he won’t die. He’s rich enough that his blood must be filled with nanites that will keep him alive until his doctors can patch him up.
He’ll be hurting for a long time though. And by the time he’s healed enough to worry about the empire he’s created, it’ll be gone. I’m going to make sure of it.
Twenty-One
Leaving Kriston Welcon bleeding on the floor, I head slowly back upstairs. The laboratory levels are now deserted, all the scientists having fled. The industrialists I locked in the room with their pods have gone too, and the door has been wrenched open.
It doesn’t matter.
I move slowly, my body aching after having been burned, shot, and battered. But with every step, my sense of purpose grows. Kriston Welcon was right. New Triton depends on Old Triton, and vice versa. Without the factories to employ them, without being able to work to earn credits to buy food, Old Triton will suffer.
Unless I change everything.
I’m going to need the Fist to help me, but hopefully Cale has called Keren and Spade by now and they’re on their way here. In the meantime, I start by destroying everything I can find, starting with the businessmen’s pods, and moving up to the equipment in the laboratories.
I smash every computer in every lab, and grind countless experiments into the floor, turning each room into a mess of broken machinery and glass.
When I finally get to the floor with the elevators, I run into Keren and Spade. Cale must have told them I was using the Leopard Skin, but they still look nervous when they see me.
“Milla?” Keren steps closer, her unease disappearing as she hardens her jaw. It reminds me of the way she launched herself at an oncoming knight the first time I met her.
“It’s me,” I say.
Spade lets out a low whistle, pushing his woollen hat back from his forehead. “That’s one impressive Skin. I saw it on the holo, but being this close is something else.”
Keren’s arm must have healed, because it’s no longer strapped up. She puts out a hand to touch my shoulder, then wrinkles her nose and draws it back. “You’re covered in blood.”
“Only some of it’s mine.”
She runs her gaze over my big form. “You look pretty beaten up. Are you okay?”
“I’m tougher than I look.”
Spade snorts. “You don’t exactly look like a pushover. That Skin’s prettier than the knights, but I still wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.”
“Did Cale tell you there are a lot of food supplies down here? If the Fist can transport it all out, it’ll feed a lot of people.” I start walking the way I’ve just come, leading them down to the Beast’s hidden rooms. “And that’s not all. There are weapons and explosives hidden away down here.”
Keren frowns. “You want us to take those too?”
“There’s something I need you to do with it.” I slow down, swinging my head to catch both their eyes. “I trust both of you, almost as much as I trust Cale. But there are some things I’m going to tell you that are going to be hard for you to believe. Things about Kris Welcon and Edward Morelle, and the corruption that’s so much a part of Triton that it’s embedded into every piece of our city. I want to change it. All of it. And to do that we need to tear it down and start again.”
Spade makes a choking sound. “Don’t tell me you want to blow up Triton?”
“I�
��ll tell you what I want. But to understand why, you need to hear the whole story.”
As we make our way back down to the lower floors, I tell them everything, including how Sentin killed Edward Morelle, and I became President Morelle and went to Deiterra, and that Kriston Welcon is lying injured on the bottom floor of this part of the building. Then I tell them what I plan to do next.
By the time I’ve finished explaining, we’ve reached the room with all the weapons, and Keren and Spade are gaping wide-eyed at both the racks of guns, and the plan I’ve laid out.
“Shit,” breathes Spade softly. He rubs his bristled chin, and his grimace shows all the gaps in his teeth. “Is this for real? I mean, are you serious?”
“Deadly serious.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I already thought you had the biggest damn balls of anyone I ever met. But shit, Milla. You’ve reached a boss level of bad-assery.”
A light flashes on Keren’s band and she brings up its control panel with glazed eyes, clearly acting on autopilot with her mind still on what I’ve been telling her.
Then her eyes snap back into focus and she frowns at me. “You said President Morelle was just a Skin, right? And you were the one using it?”
“That’s right.”
“Then how do you explain this?”
She activates her holo display, and an image of President Morelle’s face appears above it.
“What’s this?” I sit back on my haunches. “A recording?
She shakes her head. “It’s live. Breaking news. The president’s making an announcement.”
“What?” The word comes out as a shocked growl. My heart speeds up. How could this be happening? I left Morelle’s Skin locked in the secret room in the private apartment, and after the Beast managed to get up there, I tripled the number of guards in the building.
How could anybody get through all that security, find the secret room, and steal the Skin?
“I’m pleased to announce a formal peace treaty has been signed with Deiterra,” says President Morelle. “We now have the opportunity to trade our goods for theirs. This agreement has opened up exciting opportunities. It will have many benefits for Triton.”
I swallow hard as a horrible suspicion takes root in my mind. Surely I must be mistaken about who’s taken the Skin for themselves. The idea makes my stomach churn. If I’m right about this then I’ve been wrong about everything else. I’ve been betrayed.
President Morelle gazes into the camera, her expression calm and her tone firm. “To fulfil our obligations, I will immediately ban all Skins. I’ve asked our police force to help me enforce this ban. Effective immediately, Skin development will stop, and all existing Skins will be destroyed. Anyone using one will be arrested.”
Keren and Spade both stare at me, wide-eyed, as though a target’s just appeared on my chest. Which is exactly what it feels like.
“They can make your Skin illegal, but I’d like to see them try to arrest a giant leopard,” says Spade.
Keren frowns. “You should be careful. Whoever’s behind this will use this as an excuse to take you down.”
Lifting one paw, I motion for Keren to stop the live stream.
“My human body is in the same secret room as the President’s Skin was,” I tell her. “Whoever took Morelle’s Skin has access to it. They can do whatever they want, including wiping my chip. That’s if they don’t just decide to kill me.”
“What does that mean?” Keren asks.
“It means I probably don’t have much time left. You need to do what I asked. Get everyone in the Fist to help. You have to do it now.”
“But—”
“How quickly can you get it done?”
They exchange a troubled glance, their misgivings clear.
Spade sucks in his breath. “Are you sure this is—?”
My mind is tugged sideways, I feel dizzy, like I’m spinning. I’m not the leopard anymore, and I can’t hear Spade talking. My stomach lurches, and colors blur and spin.
I know exactly what’s happening. I’ve felt this sensation many times, though never when my consciousness has been in a Skin that’s so far away from my physical body.
My consciousness is transferring back to my human self.
The person who’s taken over President Morelle’s Skin must have just wiped my chip.
Twenty-Two
President Morelle is bending over me.
I stare at her for a moment, then sit up in my pod. Her complexion is as flawless as ever, and her silky hair barely moves as she straightens. She’s holding the scanner she used to wipe my chip, and her piercing eyes stay fixed on me as I detach myself from the various tubes that were feeding me and taking away my waste.
I wince and mutter curses as I pull the tubes out, but President Morelle says nothing.
The person using the Skin is waiting to see if I know who they are. If I’ve figured it out.
Once I’m free, I drag in a deep breath, ordering my heart to stop skipping in my chest, and my hands to stop sweating.
“Hello, Sentin.” I make my tone as calm as I can.
President Morelle smiles. Sentin rarely shows emotion, but I can tell he’s pleased I know it’s him.
“Hello, Milla.” His voice sounds like Morelle, just like mine did when I used that Skin.
“You’re not dead,” I say flatly.
“When did you start to suspect I wasn’t?”
I pull myself out of the pod to stand on my own two legs. My body feels stiff and sore, and I’ve got small cuts all over me. Superficial damage, like the wounds suffered by my Leopard Skin. The expensive medical equipment hooked up to the pod was probably already in the process of healing me.
“Not until I saw you on the holo just now,” I tell him. “Until then, I was mourning you. I really thought you were dead.” A surge of anger floods through me, and my tone becomes bitter. “I cried for you.”
Morelle cocks her head just like Sentin used to do in his Reptile Skin. “I’m sorry for putting you through that. Though I must admit to feeling glad that you missed me.”
I put a hand on the pod to steady myself. After all this time using the President’s Skin, and then my Leopard Skin, it feels odd to be in my own human body again. The pod has been keeping my muscles exercised and my body healthy, but my legs feel wobbly because they haven’t been used for so long, and I could do with a shower.
“You had Morelle’s scientists make you a Skin, didn’t you?” I ask. “The idea did occur to me, but you know what convinced me you were human? That cut on your hand you got from Felicity’s window. It didn’t heal nearly as quickly as my Skin does.”
“When I first cut myself, I was in my human body, and I replicated the wound on the Skin, which was grown from my own DNA. I resisted the urge to have the scientists strengthen the Skin, or use any synthetic materials or specialized nanites in its manufacture. It was identical to my own body in every way. It even smelled like me, didn’t it?” He sounds pleased with himself.
“You planned to blow yourself up?” I ask.
“The imperator was a difficult man. He would never have negotiated in good faith, no matter what we offered. Prince Otho needed to take the throne if we were to have any chance of peace, and the only way to achieve that was to remove his father.”
“Why didn’t you tell me what you were planning?”
The door to the hidden room is open, and I can see out into the library. Sentin’s human body is nowhere in sight, of course. He wouldn’t leave it where it could be found. He’s much too smart for that.
“If I’d told you, Prince Otho would never have believed you were innocent of his father’s murder. You’re not that good a liar.”
I take in a deep, slow breath, fighting to keep my emotions as firmly under control as his always are. Until now, I would have given anything to bring Sentin back from the dead. But now I know the truth, his betrayal stings.
“You always planned to take the President’s Sk
in for yourself, didn’t you?” I’m relieved my voice doesn’t give away my anger.
“Of course. Thank you for taking on the role until I was ready for it.”
I clench my teeth. “All this time, I’ve never known you to be sarcastic.”
“Sarcastic?” President Morelle gives one of Sentin’s slow blinks. “Not at all. I’m truly grateful for the part you played. It was necessary for me to stay in my human body to get us into Deiterra, but I don’t need that body anymore. You’ve done an admirable job, and have become an impressive leader. But now it’s time for me to take full control in order to lead Triton through our upcoming unification with Deiterra.”
I pinch my lips together for a moment, and when I’m sure I can keep my tone calm, I ask, “Did you arrange for the Beast to kill Felicity?”
His gaze drops and he shakes his head. “I hope you can believe me when I tell you that wasn’t part of the plan. I didn’t think he’d take it that far. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He sounds sincere, but it’s hard to believe him. Cogs are whirring in my head as I put together everything that’s happened. It all worked out to his advantage, and I’m pretty sure he planned it that way, manipulating me and everyone else so we did exactly what he wanted.
“So let me guess,” I say. “You’re the one who suggested to the scientists that they should upgrade my Leopard Skin. You wanted the Beast gone and decided I should kill him for you. And you knew that while I was doing that, I’d leave President Morelle’s Skin here for you to transfer into. I practically gift-wrapped it for you.”
“I merely guided you in the direction Triton needed to go. We’re steering both Triton and Deiterra into a better future, and Kriston Welcon and his kind can’t be part of that. I’m sure you and I agree on that?”
“When your Skin was killed in Deiterra, you transferred your consciousness back to your human body in Triton. Then you stayed in hiding until I came back and took out the Beast for you.” I have to force my teeth not to clench. How easy I must have been to manipulate. All this time, I’ve been dancing to his tune.